


An Unexpected Friendship

by DrummerWench



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrummerWench/pseuds/DrummerWench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to the <em>Tale of Years</em>, when Thorin & Co. passed through Rivendell on their way to the Lonely Mountain, Aragorn (Estel) was ten years old.  It seems quite likely that Bilbo would have met Estel during the two weeks they spent there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Friendship

Bilbo strolled down the hall.  Gandalf and Elrond sat closeted in the study behind a firmly shut door.  The Dwarves were variously occupied with annoying the kitchen Elves (Bombur, Fili, and Kili), napping on the porch (Dwalin, Dori, and Ori), polishing their weaponry and such armour as they had (Balin, Oin, Gloin, and Bifur), or practicing their instruments (Nori, Bofur, and Thorin, who had borrowed the third-best harp of a supercilious Elf named Lindir, his own having been left for safe-keeping at the Prancing Pony).  Bilbo was not quite sure what he wanted to do, but felt that whatever it was, he would much prefer to do it without Dwarves, or even wizards.

As he wandered past the stair, a glad youthful voice behind him cried, “Frida!  How came you here?”

He turned and looked up at what must surely be a child of Men, on the landing above him.  Certainly this young person was taller than Bilbo, and even than most of the Dwarves, but possessed the gangly awkwardness of youth.  Wide gray eyes in a tanned face met his gaze.  The lad's unruly black hair escaped its tie; his bare feet and rumpled linen shirt and breeches put Bilbo strongly in mind of his young Hobbit cousins.

The boy’s face fell, in mingled disappointment and apprehension.  “Oh, you are not Alfrida.  I beg your pardon, sir.  Please do not let me detain you,” he said, and made to turn away upstairs.

“Stay but a moment,” begged Bilbo.  “Perhaps you can help me.  From my window I can see the hillside-- I should like to get into the pine-woods up there.  You may think I’ve had enough walking for months, but I’d like to just wander among the trees with no goal, no pack on my back, and especially no Dwarves stumping ahead of me or treading on my heels.”

He smiled at the boy, who still seemed wary, indeed apt to bolt at any moment.

“Come, come, lad,” he said.  “I am a hobbit; there is no need to fear me!”

The boy bent his head sheepishly.  “It’s not that!  It’s just, well, no one is supposed to know I am here.  I mean, except for the people who live here.”

Bilbo thought that odd, but if the Elves wanted to keep the youngster hidden, that was their affair.  “I will tell no one.  Part of my job is to keep secrets,” he said, thinking that if he were to be a burglar, he might as well practice discretion.  “Let’s remove ourselves from this corridor.”

They went first to the Hobbit’s little suite of rooms (a sitting room, bedchamber, and washroom), which, unlike the Dwarves, he had to share with no one.  Once there, he introduced himself properly to the boy.

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

“Estel Elrondion, at yours and your family’s,” returned the lad.

“That sounds like an Elvish name,” said Bilbo.

“Well, ‘Elrondion’ just means ‘Elrond’s son,” said Estel.  Bilbo’s surprise must have shown in his face, for the boy added, “He is my foster father.  My real father died when I was little.”  He paused briefly.  “And ‘Estel’ means ‘Hope’.

This time Bilbo schooled his face to hide his thoughts, for "Estel" seemed an unlikely name, and he wondered what the lad's real name might be.

"Now that we have become acquainted, how about that stroll?  You shall wear my cloak and hood, and lead the way.  With any luck, we'll be well away without anyone the wiser."  They stepped over the windowsill into the gardens and Bilbo followed his companion along the paths toward the hillside.

Estel led him upwards, around copses, over little tinkling brooks till they came into the pine woods Bilbo had admired.  Once they were clear of the houses and fields, Estel clearly felt more at ease conversing in other than a whisper, and began pointing out favorite climbing trees and interesting rocks.  By this time, the boy had removed his cloak and hood, as the day was fine and the climb stiff.

They lay back on the heaps of fragrant pine needles in a small clearing, admiring the prospect across the valley below them.  Bilbo found Estel eager to learn about his journey and of Hobbits.  "Though I know quite a lot of history of Men and Elves and the Lands of the West, they haven't got to the parts about Hobbits, yet."

"And they may never do so," said Bilbo.  "It's unlikely Hobbits will appear in any of your histories, as we are none of us at all remarkable.  Tell me how you fill your days, here among all these Elves."

They chatted thus about all manner of things, Estel remaining close-mouthed about his personal particulars, but otherwise quite open about his life in Rivendell.

As they walked back downhill, Bilbo asked, “When I encountered you by the stairs, you called me ‘Frida’.  Is that one of your friends here?”

“Oh, no!  She does not live here; I meet her in the House of Play.  My father says that since there are no other children living here, I can meet my friends there when I dream the true dreams.  I even meet my cousin Hal there.

“Frida’s real name is ‘Alfrida’—it means ‘Elf-friend'.  Her hair is like yours, brown and curly.  That’s why I thought you were she.”  He drew himself up stoutly.  “When I am grown, I will travel and search until I find her.  Then we can be married.”

"That is a noble goal.  You must remember to invite me to the wedding," replied Bilbo gravely.

Of course, keeping their acquaintance hidden from the Elves, as Bilbo suspected, was a fool's errand.  He was not surprised, the next evening after supper, to receive a visit from Elrond, surprising him telling Estel about the adventure of the trolls (having shown him the dagger-sword from their hoard).

Elrond seemed more disappointed in Estel than angry with Bilbo.  "The damage is done," he said, gazing at the little Hobbit.

It seemed to Bilbo that the tall Elf looked not at him, nor exactly beyond him, either, and he found it a most uncomfortable feeling, as if Elrond actually looked inside his head.

Elrond's face softened.  "It seems there will be no damage after all.  Perhaps it is for the best, though you, Estel, must be much more careful in the future.  Not all chance encounters will bode so well for you as Mr. Baggins."

His warm gaze turned kindly on them both.  "If you, Mr. Baggins, will undertake to keep my son out of the way of the Dwarves, I will continue to steer Mithrandir's attention from him.  I think your friendship will do him good, both now and," he sighed, "in the future."

Over the next several days, they spent together what time Estel could spare from his lessons (sword-fighting, some obscure Southern language, history), walking in the hills or sitting in Bilbo's little parlor.

They played draughts (Bilbo had found an old set in a drawer) and pitched pennies against the hearth.  They sang songs, discovering that they knew quite different words to the same tunes, and Bilbo taught Estel the song about the Man in the Moon, of which he was rather proud, for he had made up the words himself. 

During his copious spare time, Bilbo read in the library or studied Elvish.  The latter he practiced on the lad, which Estel suffered with good grace.  He corrected Bilbo's accent often, with the result that the Elvish lady from whom Bilbo was receiving lessons complimented him on his rapid progress.

All too soon, the time to leave approached.  Gandalf and Elrond had decreed the company would set off again midsummer morning.

Bilbo bade farewell to Estel on midsummer's eve, though in the early morning, when he looked back at the Last Homely House, he thought he saw someone waving from an upper window.  He waved back vigorously, then turned and firmly set his sights on the path ahead.

~~~

As Bilbo began making ready to depart from the Lonely Mountain, he and Gandalf purchased supplies from the folk of ruined Lake-town, as much as they could spare.  Not everything he bought counted exactly as "supplies", however.  He encountered one couple who had escaped the wreckage with much of their stock of toys, and thought of the solitary boy amongst the Elves of Rivendell.  He made a show of bargaining for it, but paid willingly, thinking, they surely need these coins more than I, and packed his purchase away with his little hoard.

~~~

When Bilbo awoke, late that first morning in Rivendell, his first thought (after breakfast) was of his young friend.  Estel soon knocked upon his door, greeting him with as much delight as Bilbo felt.

Estel had heard, of course, much of Bilbo's and Gandalf's tale from a hidden corner the previous evening, but pelted him with questions, eager to know yet more of his adventures.

Bilbo gave him a tale or two, but interrupted the telling to open his pack.

"I know Yule is five months gone, so I hope you'll forgive my tardiness in delivering your belated Yuletide present!"  He pulled out the bundle he'd tied up in a bit of fancy cloth.  "The toymakers of Lake-town make the best toys in the world."

Estel tore off the string in great haste; the spangled cloth fell away.

The little dragon's brass body shone golden in the sunlight.  Estel squeaked with joy.  "It's marvelous," he exclaimed.  He examined it carefully, and soon discovered that if you moved the tail down, the wings extended outward, the head came forward, and a tiny spurt of flame emerged from the brass jaws.

Though the day was already warm, nothing would do for him but to light a fire on the hearth with his new toy—several times.

Elrond granted Estel a bit of holiday during Bilbo and Gandalf's short stay; once again, he kept the wizard well-entertained while the Hobbit and the lad of Men tramped about the valley.

Before their departure for Bilbo's longed-for home, he bade Estel farewell.  "I will never forget you, and hope to see you again.  Perhaps when you are a Man grown, travelling about the world looking for your Frida, you will stop at the Shire and pay me a visit.

"I know your foster father wishes no-one to know of your presence here, so I will never mention it to anyone, even Gandalf."  And he never did.

 

End

 

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine, Gandalf's Apprentice, wrote into her 'verse the idea that Elrond hid Estel's presence from all outsiders, even from Gandalf. When I started writing "Bilbo Meets Estel During His Unexpected Journey", I immediately thought of incorporating that concept as a nod to G.A.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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